Ready to Run
by Thatlittleamy
Summary: When Lestrade first moves to London to work as an undercover agent, he brings his family along with him. After a meeting with Sherlock, his daughter becomes best friends with our favourite detective, and they get up to all sorts of mischief together. pre-john. young!lock OC Rated:T for slight violence. Co-written with ekg1997
1. Chapter 1

**Authors Note: Hello, so this is my first fanfiction EVER, so please don't hate me. I had help from the amazing ekg1997, to make this the best it can be. Hope you enjoy it and please review. Thank you :3 YAY**

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I think he was there to save me. I'm not sure. At first, I was positive he was out to hurt me, like the others, but then he reached out his hand, and dragged me up off of the floor.

"Come with me, but I hope you're ready to run" He whispered. The street light illuminated his face, I hadn't seen his face before then. He was pale, too pale, ill looking. It was hard to pinpoint his age, he could be no older than 30, but no younger than 20. His hands were on the larger size, with large amount of small chemical stains at the base, with plasters at the end of each finger and thumb. His hair was wet, due to the rain, making his dark curls stick to his forehead, only making the blue of his eyes shine brighter.

I was finally on my feet, he was at least twice my height, and I thought I was tall for my age.

Without letting go of my hand, he began running again, tearing my feet from the earth and pulling me through the air. Only giving me seconds to find my balance, I joined in on our race.

Men, larger than I am, almost as large as the stranger, were chasing us. They were bulky, wearing leather jackets and sunglasses. My stranger seemed to know his way around, pulling me through the maze of dark, murky alleyways of London as if he had his own sat-nav inside his mind. The bulk and strength of the men seemed to have failed them, as we lost them in what felt like minutes.

We reached the end of an alleyway, which looked like it came to main road. He stopped running, and came to a fast paced walk, leaving me to fall forwards.

He walked away, turning into a café and left me there. I dragged myself off the ground, and walked to the café. I looked in the window, and saw my reflection, my face was bruised, and my lip was ripped open. The red of my hair had faded with mud stains.

I walked into the café to meet him, it was practically dead, there was no one there apart for an elderly couple and some children. Where had he gone?


	2. Chapter 2

So, the reason the angry men were trying (and succeeded) to hurt me, was because of my father. We had just moved here, to London, because my father was in the police and was offered a job being undercover in clubs, trying to catch drug dealers and stuff. Well, he caught one in the act of dealing and they caught him in the act of spying.

Apparently the dealer was named William Kingston, and they police had been searching for him for a while. So when Kingston knew he was caught, he wasn't happy. He threatened to kill my father and his family (my mother and I) if he told the police. My father was loyal to the service and made the call.

"Yes boss... it's Lestrade here... I have found Kingston.. Yes, the drug dealer… Yes sir.. I will be waiting… Thank you… You too sir, goodbye."

The boss, as my father liked to call him, claimed the police force were on their way and ready for action. They arrested Kingston, but he had friends, good friends, friends good enough to keep his secrets. Father managed to keep myself and my mother protected. But walking home from school was always risky.

My father had said alleyways were always the best, there's little people, so you always know when someone is approaching you and there are places to hide . I stuck to that.

It was a Tuesday, I hate Tuesdays. I left school, I walked straight down the alley opposite- the normal route. For a while, I was the only person. Then I heard footsteps behind me, there were three sets, all heavy footfalls and slowly speeding up. I didn't look back, assuming it was people from school.

The steps were getting faster and faster and then kicking in to a run. My natural reaction was to run away from them. But by the time I thought about it, one of them had tackled me down.

I crashed into the pavement, one of them on top of me. The other two pulled him up, leaving me in the dirt and muck of the alley floor. One pulled me up, holding my arms around my back so I was unable to move. My face felt like it was on fire. Except it wasn't, they just punched my face so hard that it felt like it was. I felt the blood trickle out of my mouth. My lip was split, well, it felt like it was. I collapsed to the floor after a swift kick to the stomach and the guy holding me let go.

I grazed my knees, they would probably get infected if left for too long.

Everything hurt.

My chest hurt from trying to get air into my lungs.

My knees hurt from my fall.

My stomach hurt from the kick.

My face hurt from the punch.

But most of all, my pride hurt, I had let my father down by letting three men sneak up on me the way they had. I needed to stand up, I needed to get away from them, now.

My vision was starting to blur, a kick to my head didn't help. I was knocked onto my back, I could feel my eyes drifting shut and gravity dragging me down. A kick was delivered to my abdomen and my eyes drifted shut. I was still conscious. Barely. I could hear, feel and smell, I just couldn't see. I tried opening my eyes, blood clouded my vision. I heard another pair of footsteps.

'Oh God!' I thought. 'Not another one.'

I could hear them fighting, why were they fighting each other. I forced my eyes open, when I heard the first body fall.

'What's going on'

It was a taller, skinnier man, taking out the others. He was so strong, for someone who looked so fragile. There were two other hits to the ground, leaving the stranger stood alone in the dark.

"Come with me, I hope you're ready to run" He whispered.


	3. Chapter 3

A few days later…

I sat in my dad's office, using his computer, looking at the 'criminal database' or whatever it was called, trying to find the guys that hit me. I would have used my phone but, I had lost it during the attack.

My father, Greg Lestrade, walked in. He was kind of small, but taller than most. His hair was a blacky colour, but the majority was grey.

"Frankie?" He asked, sounding worried, holding his phone on his hand.

"Hey Dad, What's wrong?"

"Is this the guy who attacked you? He's using your number." He held the phone out to me, and I reluctantly took it.

"Er, hello"

"Hello, it's me" It was the stranger (I don't know what to call him)

"Hi" I replied suspiciously

"We need to meet. I accidently stole your phone, meet me on Southwark Bridge, ten minutes" He spoke quickly, then hanging up on me not giving me time to reply.

"So, was it one of them?" My dad asked, with his hand out waiting for me to return his phone.

"No, it was just a friend" I handed his phone back, stood up, and took my jacket off of my chair, "I have to go see you soon, love you" I ran out of the room.

'Southwark Bridge, ten minutes'

Ten minutes later found me standing in the middle of the bridge. In the rain. You'd think that I would be used to it, what with living in Britain but no, I wasn't. The rain was not something I was used to, nor did I enjoy it or think of it as a necessary part of climate-y stuff. The rain was just a way to make us humans irate.

What added to my irritation was that that man hadn't turned up. He was the one who wanted to meet me and yet he couldn't even be bothered being here. I sighed and turned to watch the river. The boats sailing along on the current were a nice distraction from the rain dripping into my eyes. Two minutes. Two minutes and I'm leaving.

"Excuse me." A voice said from behind me "I was wondering if you'd like your phone back." I turned around.

It was him

I raised an eyebrow at him. "You said ten minutes. I'm here."

"Well would you like your phone back or not?" He said, holding it out to me.

"Yes. Thank you." I took it from him, looking over it to see if he had done anything to it

"I'm not a bad guy, you know."

"I know" I said

"Then why are you checking your phone?" he asked

"You did steal it" I defended

"Yeah, but, I didn't do anything with it."

"Except read through my contacts to find my dad's number." I pointed out

"That was so I could find you" He said

"You could have just asked me before you ran off."

"Well, I had to be somewhere." He defended "And I didn't run. I just walked quickly."

I raised my other eyebrow. "Yeah. Right." I said skeptically, facing away from him. He grabbed me by the arm, dragging me to look back at him.

"I'm sorry I stole your phone, but I had to leave."

"It's fine, don't worry but I have to go now, my Dad's expecting me back. I told him I wouldn't be long."

"Okay I understand" He sharply turned around and walked away.

"Wait!" I called. He turned around "What's your name?"

"It's all in your phone" He said "I added my number."

He turned and walked away. I looked down at my phone. I unlocked it and looked through my contacts to find Sherlock 'Mr Smexeh' Holmes. I frowned. Guess he does have a sense of humor after all.


End file.
